Lay o Lay Below
by Sober
Summary: So the undead life continues without any problems for the most part, but things feel like they are spiraling out of control. George can't seem to leave her previous life alone and the others deal with personal issues of their own. George/Mason/Trip/Daisy
1. Chapter 1

**You know what it feels like to die? Of course you don't. Unless you're like me. You see, I'm a grim reaper. I know. I don't exactly look like a grim reaper, but that's because society likes to image grim reapers as cloaked shadows with overwhelming scythes and boney hands. That's really not how it works. Sometimes I think grim reapers were the ones who started those rumors just to throw people off their track. Everyone knew about death. Everyone will experience it, too. I just happened to experience is after only 18 years of living. I didn't even get to do much with my life. It's not like I'm bitter or anything, cause I'm not. I've gotten over it. It's been almost two years since I died. I'm not going to mourn the loss of my life for the rest of my… unlife. Sure, I miss my family. I miss being able to tell people my real name and I miss being called by my real name, but I've gotten over it. I've gotten over the fact that my entire life had been wasted away and I never did anything. I've gotten over the regrets of dropping out of college. I've gotten over the regrets of never going on a real date with a boy.**

**Whatever. It doesn't bother me anymore.**

**"Something bothering you, Peanut?"**

**I look up to see Rube carefully looking over at me from across the table. I guess it had been a while since I touched my oatmeal. Matter of fact, I didn't even have a spoonful yet. "I'm fine," I said lowly. Rube shrugged and I knew he didn't believe me. That's what really bothered me about Rube. He could always tell when I wasn't okay and he always felt the need to ask if I was. He knew the true answer but he also knew the lie I was going to tell him before I even opened my mouth. So why bother?**

**"Just one little peak, _please_!"**

**"Mason, darling… I told you: unless you have something substantial to offer me, the answer remains no. And I think it will continue to remain that way considering the fact that you're still living with George and I and you have yet to make any substantial amount of money." Daisy and Mason were just arriving and I could only assume what Mason had asked of her. I heard him sigh sadly before plopping down next to me. He practically sat on me and I looked at him incredulously. I don't think he even realized I was there as he watched Daisy sit down across from him. "And no, I'm not paying for your breakfast.**

**"Georgie…" he started to plea. Oh, so now he sees me? I widen my eyes and gape at him before turning back to my oatmeal, choosing to ignore him. He whimpered sadly.**

**"Has the thought ever occurred to you that you might be able to have breakfast if you got a job?" Rube piped in. Mason looked at him with slight confusion. "Cause if you have a job, you get paid money, and if you have money, you can pay for breakfast."**

**"Oh, you see, I would agree with that and I would go look for a job, but lovely Daisy here has taught me the importance of hygienic fingernails. Last thing I want to do is get these pretty boys dirty." He looked at his dirty fingernails like he was checking his nail polish. I saw Daisy laugh shamelessly and roll her eyes.**

**"I didn't even know the word hygiene existed for you."**

**"Well, if you want to get technical, I used the word hygienic."**

**"Yes, well hygienic is another form of the word hygiene."**

**"If you two are done?" Rube cut in shortly, placing post-its in front of everyone except for Mason.**

**"Where's my post-it?"**

**"Don't you just love it how every time someone doesn't get a post-it, they ask me where their post-it is? Like I lost it?"**

**"Or you forgot to give them one," I added humorously.**

**"You don't get one today, Mason."**

**"Well, why not?"**

**Rube shrugged. "Shouldn't you just be happy you don't have another opportunity to screw up? You know, that also makes me happy cause then I don't have to tell you how much of a screw up you are for screwing up."**

**"Except you're doing that now, Rube."**

**"Would you look at that." Rube chuckled. "I am…"**

**"Where's Roxy?" I asked.**

**"I already gave her a post-it. She had an early reap."**

**"Can't imagine she was happy," I added. Rube simply shook his head as if remembering a conversation he had earlier, a slight smirk on his face.**

**"No… she wasn't. I think you all should get started."**

**I looked down at my post-it. P. Thrace. 502 Hecklem Lane. 10:23am "Mind if I tag along, Daisy?" I heard Mason ask hopefully.**

**Daisy hummed thoughtfully for a moment as if in deep contemplation on an answer. "No," she added quickly before getting up and walking out of Der Waffle Hause. Mason watched her leave and gave another sad sigh. I simply rolled my eyes.**

**"You wouldn't say no to me, would you, Georgie?" I huffed.**

**"Yeah, except maybe you should stop coming to me as a second thought." I nudge him with my knee to indicate I wanted to leave and he scooted out of the booth, mock hurt on his face.**

**"You're a beautiful person, George."**

**I laughed. "I didn't say you could come!"**

**"Well, can I come?" I sighed and nodded. "Yes!"**

**"I take it you don't have anything better to do?"**

**"On a Saturday morning? No… not really." I rolled my eyes again before walking out of Der Waffle Hause.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I'm currently exploring I thought was interesting in the show. They never really got into it and the show ended before the idea could be explored. They also didn't go into it during the movie, so I felt it could be a fun plot device. I'm pretty much just winging this, so we'll see where it goes, cause I don't even know.**

Not that I really cared, but: "so… how have you been?"

Mason looked at me perplexed. I only glanced at him before returning my eyes back to the road. "Fine…?" Mason laughed slightly and nervously.

"I mean, I was just wondering considering it hasn't been that long since… well…"

"Oh, you're talking about that whole incident with Ray and the whole… oh, yeah! You know… Still broke. Still living in your cozy little house. He disappeared though," Mason added as an afterthought, looking curiously out the window. No, I never told anyone what I did to Ray's graveling. I didn't tell anyone that I touched him and took his soul and that he basically turned to ashes right there on my couch while Mason slept. I didn't tell anyone that I had killed a graveling. Could Ray really be considered a graveling though? Was he in the graveling ranks? Because he had been different. He hadn't followed the same rules as the other gravelings. Daisy said he showed up and killed someone who didn't have a post-it. They didn't have a date with death, but he had been the cause of the man who did have a date with death. It was all so confusing and I couldn't wrap my head around it.

And what did it mean if I was able to kill a graveling? Could I kill other gravelings? Could I somehow kill death? It was a frightening thought and every time I tried to do something about death, do something productive, it always ended poorly. It always came back to haunt me. Every failure I had was magnified tenfold because someone's soul was hurt in the process. If I could kill a graveling though… what would that mean? Could other grim reapers kill a graveling, too? Did we have this power all along? Was Rube aware of this? He probably was. That man knew everything… but he didn't know about Ray. Everyone kept that card close to the chest, and thanks to Roxie, we didn't have to worry about him again. We didn't even have to worry about his graveling. But I was the only one who knew _why_.

"George?"

"Wha-? Huh?" I shook my head and looked over at Mason who had a look of confusion mixed with concern on his face.

"Why do you ask?"

I laugh defensively. "What? I can't ask how my co-worker is doing since a very upsetting event?"

"Aw, Georgie! You think of me as a _co-worker_. Isn't that a sweet sentiment?"

"Yeah, don't look too much into it either." Mason chuckled. There was a long moment of silence before I finally asked, "did you mean what you said to me that one day when you came to see me at Happy Time?" He raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with me before I turned my eyes away again.

"What do you mean? What did I say?" He laughed. "I was so fucking out of it, Georgie… I probably said some weird things."

"Right… right," I added with a shake of my head. "It's… nevermind." I chuckled dismissively. I didn't even want to think about it. "You did say some weird things. You threw me off, too."

"One of my many charms," he added jokingly… except he really had no idea how true it was.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm looking forward to this fanfic. This is only my second fanfic I've ever tried to write. So, yeah. And the last one I did was years ago! Anyway! Enjoy!**

I was never one for shopping and Hecklem Lane seemed to be a big shopping district. Mason managed to find entertainment through window shopping, but my eyes were scanning the surroundings for likely suspects. There was a food vender at the corner of the block across the street and while nothing really stuck out to me as dangerous, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone's imminent death had something to do with it. I also couldn't shake this stormy cloud over my head. Lately, I'd just been more grim than usual. There's some grim reaper humor for you, but in all seriousness, I've been hating myself more and more. I've never been very good as diagnosing myself and I try to avoid introspection into my soul, but since being dead, I've had a lot more time to think about things.

I've hit a lot of milestones since being dead, too. I've had my first cigarette, my first drink, my first real kiss, my first boyfriend, and my first fuck. You'd think that with being dead, you'd feel like you have all the time in the world to spare. That's not really the case. As a matter of fact, I don't have any time. Death tends to run on a very tight schedule. If you're not there to do your job at exactly the right moment, someone's entire existence can go up in smokes. It's strange to think such a fragile system rests on the shoulders of those who were once human. Wouldn't it be more logical and efficient to get angels to do this kind of thing? Where _were_ the angels, anyway? Since being dead, all I've seen are horrible things. I haven't once seen anything like God or angels.

I've seen demons though.

Gravelings.

"Hey, Georgie! Take a look at this!" Mason motioned toward a display case with the latest IPod.

I looked in. "So?" I shrugged, unimpressed, before turning back to face the direction of the street vendor. Mason seemed to notice my gloomy mood so he decided to leave it alone. Then I spotted it – the graveling. Ever since I touched Ray's graveling, the sight of them really unnerved me. They'd always bothered me – the ugly bastards – but now… there was something more sinister about them. I saw it crawl toward the vender's cart fiddle with a switch before disappearing.

"Darla! I told you! Tell them that is Peter Thrace who wants this deal to go through! My name should be more than enough to convince them." There was a man in front of me talking on a cell phone. He was wearing a trench coat and his hair was stylishly gelled. He looked like a business man and just before he walked away, I brushed my hand along his back, taking his soul. Now he wouldn't feel a thing. He wouldn't feel pain when his death came along. Just as the man started walking across the street, the do not walk symbol appeared. The red hand blinking, but he was too absorbed in his conversation to notice. A cab was speeding toward him. The driver slammed on his breaks and Mr. Thrace jumped away. "Hey! I'm walking here!" The vending cart started to roll. The cab driver yelled a few obscenities and just as people tried to warn Mr. Thrace, the heavy cart slammed into him, knocking him over and rolling over his skull.

"And I was just about to become a billionaire…" Mr. Thrace said sadly as he came to stand next to me.

"And I was about to become a rock star when I died," Mason added thoughtfully. Mr. Thrace looked over at Mason doubtfully.

"Come on," I said, motioning for Mr. Thrace to follow me. "Time for you to move on."


	4. Chapter 4

As I watched P. Thrace walk into his afterlife, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of anger and resentment. I glared at the sparkling lights with unbridled hatred. What made them so special? I didn't get it, and as I tried to wrap my head around it, I grew more and more frustrated. Mason saw my disgusted look and I saw him from the corner of my eye turn to me questioningly.

"George?"

"What?" I hissed, not bothering to turn my head to look at him.

"Everything alright, there?"

I turn away from the last of the shining lights and start walking quickly down the street. "Sure," I grumbled. I could tell he didn't believe me and before he could ask, I found myself blurting everything out as I turned to him, making him stop dead in his tracks as he looked down at me. "Why do they get the lights? What makes them so special that they get to go somewhere else? I don't understand, and each time I see someone move onto… whatever it is they go to, I can't help but hate them! They're so lucky and they don't even realize it. They have no idea what it's like to be stuck here, watching everyone you care for move on without you. They can't even see you. You're just another face in crowd to them, but _they_ don't have to see that. _They_ move on. _They_ have a chance to experience something beyond death, but us? We're forced to face it again and again every single day." Without even realizing it, I was ranting to Mason who couldn't seem to hold a serious conversation for more than two seconds. And as I said all these things, I felt myself fighting back the tears.

"Don't you hate it, Mason? Don't you hate seeing them move on like that while you're forced to watch their… spirit or whatever float away… knowing that you'll never have that?"

"We don't know that, George," he said softly, a frown coming to cross his lips.

I laughed bitterly and rolled my eyes. I was still managing to hold back my tears. "Sure we do. It's simple. We die. We're stuck. This is our limbo." I shook my head before I turned away from him. I didn't want him to follow me, and I think he knew that. So I left his standing there. I don't know if he watched me leave and I don't know if he even cared about anything I just said. I was just a rookie grim reaper, right? He had already faced these issues, these doubts, these questions. He had nothing to be sullen about. But me? I still saw my family every day, and while I wasn't supposed to go home, I found myself driving by each time I had a chance. I know Rube keeps a picture of someone in his wallet, but he doesn't seem to have any connection left with this world. What does he care? He probably couldn't remember the last doubt he had. Daisy? She probably felt nothing but pride in herself. What sentimentality could she possibly hold to this world? And Roxy was just a bitch. Enough said. I had enough of these people. I had enough of grim reaping. It all was pointless and I was tired of seeing death and the afterlife without ever being able to touch it. Knowing I will never touch it was agonizing, too.


	5. Chapter 5

I found myself wandering around the city with no real destination in mind. I didn't want to go back home because Daisy or Mason was probably there, and in all honesty, I didn't want to be around anyone I knew. I wonder what I would be doing right now if I hadn't died. I like to think that I'd be out with some friends and having a good time, but something tells me I probably would have been home reading a book. There's no point in lying to myself. As much as I would like to think I'd be living my life to the fullest, I know I'd just be wasting away like I always was. It's embarrassing to admit that I only really wanted to start living my life to the fullest when I didn't have it anymore. I wish someone had told me I was going to die when I was 18. I wish someone had let me know I'd have such a short time to live. What would I have done differently? Would I have done anything differently? Would I have even listened?

God, I was depressing.

But that's death for you – depressing as shit. Being surrounded by it kind of has an effect on people, I think.

"George?" I heard my name and I turned around instinctively. I couldn't believe who I saw, either. Tall, dark, and handsome.

"T-Trip?" I found myself gaping at him as he stood a few uncertain steps toward me. He looked timid and even a little fragile. "What the hell do _you_ want?" The words had come out of my mouth before I could stop them, before I could even think about them. He blinked, hurt in his eyes and I wanted to apologize, but I couldn't get myself to swallow my pride.

"I, uh… saw you walking and thought I'd say hi."

"Well… hi," I responded grimly before turning around and starting to walk away from him.

"Ah, wait!" Trip was rushing after me. He moved in front of me to block my path.

"Waiting…"

"I, uh…" He was hesitating. He brought a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it nervously. He didn't even bother to look me straight in the eye. Instead his gaze wandered, focusing on anything and everything but me, the one he was addressing. "Realize this might be kind of awkward, but I'm glad to see you."

"Trip…" I waited until his eyes were finally on me. "What do you want?"

He sighed in exasperation. "I want to start over?"

"What? You find me on the street and all of a sudden you want to start talking?" I saw the realization in his eyes.

"No! I don't!" He winced. "I mean, I do! It's just… I, uh, lost your number?" I scoffed in disgust before shouldering passed him. "Wait!" He grabbed my arm to stop me. "Okay, I didn't lose your number. Truth is, I freaked out. I… I don't know why, but I just couldn't gather the courage to call you."

"Oh, don't make me vomit," I grumbled, wrenching my arm from his grasp.

"Please, George. It's not what you think. I know I did a really rotten thing by not calling or anything. I realize how it must look."

I turned to face him, enraged. "You think that I'm upset about that? You must be real full of yourself if you think I was that hung up on you." I wanted to laugh at his assumption. "How long has it been, anyway? It's been long enough for me to move on. I don't know why you just left, but I stopped caring a long time ago. No hard feelings, okay, Trip?" I tapped him on the shoulder before turning away from him. I made it final. I didn't want him to follow me or try and stop me again and I think he got the hint. The shocked look on his face told me that much. He wasn't going to follow.


End file.
